


Cohesion

by misaffection



Category: Doctor Who (2005), Farscape
Genre: Crossover, F/M, alternative universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-23
Updated: 2014-08-23
Packaged: 2018-02-14 09:29:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2186541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misaffection/pseuds/misaffection
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After their relationship almost stalled before it began, Donna finally tells Bialar about the Doctor. When a close call with the Peacekeepers leaves Bialar injured... and Donna makes a decision that will change her life forever. But even as they get closer, there's still something unresolved. Then Donna sees a very familiar blue box...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Picking Up The Pieces

**Author's Note:**

> This follows on from [Convergence](http://archiveofourown.org/works/57847) and [Coextension](http://archiveofourown.org/works/103920), which really need to be read first for this to make any sense.

Bialar Crais piloted the transporter pod to the landing zone and set it down amidst a collection of other craft that ranged from new and shiny to rust buckets. His companion sat forwards, eyes wide as she took in each one – there was nothing so small or so rusted that Donna Noble couldn't find it wonderful. She turned a dazzling smile on him, her entire face lit by excitement.

It was an expression that never failed to shake him. She was so bright, so full of life. She was also quite beautiful, causing certain emotions to stir that hadn't for some time. He'd no reason to dismiss them. Not any more. He was no longer governed by Peacekeeper regulations, seeing as they thought he was dead and he hadn't seen fit to correct them of that misunderstanding. Unfortunately, the freedom to express himself meant he'd done so rather bluntly, and caused something of a division between him and Donna.

Bialar sighed. He'd been bullishly stupid. A result of her pulling away every time he got close, despite being as attracted to him as he was her. He'd known why. He'd been woken by her terror too many nights, held her too many times to remain unaware of the wounds she carried. It was selfish and really rather ridiculous to expect more from her than she was willing to give, yet he couldn't help but feel slighted.

He'd pushed almost too far. Had almost lost her. The memory of her fury still tasted of the panic he'd felt on Talyn. But Donna had a bigger heart and had forgiven him. It had been her to edge them past that breaking point, had returned them to safer ground. Now they'd come to a little commerce planet in the middle of nowhere, Donna having traded his taking her to a new world for the promise of finally telling him what was troubling her.

Bialar knew some of it. The interface that had joined her mind to Talyn's awareness had taken the alien consciousness from her, both saving her life but allowing him to glimpse snatches of her time with a man she called the Doctor. 

Only snatches, but enough to make him wonder if he truly wanted to know more.

It seemed Donna was wondering if she wanted to tell him, because her smile slipped and she gave a soft sigh. “Right, then, Spaceman. Let's get this over with.”

She got up from the co-pilot's seat and went to the hatch, her pace brisk. Bialar rose slower. “If you do not wish to tell me–”

“We had a deal.” She sounded firm, but he caught the slight quiver beneath her tone. She didn't look back at him. “And I want to. Sort of. I think... I think it's time you knew everything.”

There was no arguing with her when she was in that sort of mood, so he didn't even try. The hatch opened on a blast of hot, dry air. He shrugged off his jacket and followed her out. She walked across the landing area in a determined fashion that made it seem she knew where she was going. Bialar knew she didn't, but kept his mouth shut. Donna had a temper that, though he'd hardly seen it, matched his own and he didn't want to fight.

He never wanted to fight with her again.

A shudder wracked him at the recall of their altercation on Talyn. He'd been stupid and let his libido do the talking, and hurt her in the process. Not that she hadn't managed a few well-aimed barbs in return. That she could prick his pride was indicative of how deep his feelings towards her already ran. Perhaps that's what happened when a woman literally fell into one's arms.

Beyond the landing zone, the city was a chaotic mix of towering metal structures and little wooden hovels. The divide between rich and poor was palpable, and Bialar hated how it reminded him of his own homeworld. He didn't like to think of that, of what he'd been forced to leave. Even now, after all these cycles, the forced recruitment rankled.

Donna was threading through the crowd some way ahead. He jogged to catch up, then procured her hand and tucked it in the crook of his elbow. She arched an eyebrow, though amusement twitched her lips. Her gaze returned to the buildings around them, then she must have spotted whatever she was looking for, as she dragged him over to one side.

It was a two-storey affair with a glass front and an awning stretched over a fenced-off area. This was dotted with rickety looking chairs. Donna stepped through the open gate and settled down at one of the round tables. Her glance was expectorant. He sighed and sat opposite her. A waiter appeared, notebook in hand.

“Your most alcoholic beverage, please,” she ordered, her tone flat. Bialar added a hot drink for himself to the order, then propped on elbow on the table. Watching her, he saw a guarded tension settle over her face, and that she avoided looking at him. The subdued silence was very different to her usual energy.

“Donna–”

“I met a man.” Her tone was monotone and her expression blank. This was not Donna. Not the Donna he knew. “His name was Lance. We worked at the same place. He... bought me coffee. I thought he liked me. I thought... We had this headlong romance, got engaged, were going to get married. Back then that was everything I wanted. All that I thought I could achieve. I mean, I was just a temp. Nothing special.”

She sounded so sad, and Bialar hated that as much as her words. He wanted to tell her how she wasn't “just” anything to him, that she was special, but forced himself to hold his tongue. She was not finished.

“Then on the day of our wedding, me in my dress and walking down the aisle, I got swept up into the Doctor's world. I–”

Donna's voice cracked. As she gathered herself, the waiter returned with their drinks. She grabbed her glass and downed a third of the drink. She gasped, blinked hard, then gave a short laugh. “Whoa, that's the stuff. Okay, where was I? The Doctor. Yeah. I wasn't meant to have beamed up or whatever I did. Those coffees Lance had been getting me, they were... poisoned, sort of, and... well, I guess that's not very important. You see, he'd never loved me. I was just someone he could use to get what he wanted. He only asked me to marry him so I'd stick around. And I was so desperate, so stupid, that I fell for him.”

This time, he couldn't help it – he took her hand, gripped it tight. “You are not stupid.”

~I see it~

Talyn's sudden thought jolted Bialar. He focused his mind on the link. _“What do you mean?”_

A huge room that looked industrial, with a huge hole in the floor. A creature almost as large, blood red, with eight legs and the head of a woman. A dark-skinned man with a sneer on his face.

The vision/memory came with a sense of betrayal, and hurt so great his own eyes smarted.

_But I love you... That's what made it easy._

Donna hadn't noticed his distraction. “I was, though,” she continued in that soft, sad voice. “I never amounted to much. Never thought beyond myself. The best thing I could achieve was to get married, have kids. I didn't think there could be more.” She looked up then, her eyes damp. “Not until I met the Doctor.”

“Who then wiped your mind.” It wasn't a question – he knew the alien had done exactly that.

She nodded, but didn't comment on it. “It took me nearly a year to get over what Lance had done,” she said. “In that time, I also came to realise how little I'd been willing to settle for. So when I got the chance to travel through time and space...” She smiled, her eyes foggy with memory. “It was... terrifying and wonderful. I never wanted it to end. But it did, and yeah, he did.”

Bialar frowned down at his cup. “Then how is he so wonderful? You talk about him as if he is so special, but he betrayed you, Donna. Betrayed and then abandoned you.”

Her bottom lip quivered and she tugged her hand free from his. He realised that in his anger, he'd said something that had hurt her. Again. “I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that.”

Donna sighed. “It's true, though, isn't it? But he didn't do it to hurt me. He did what he believed was right, what would save my life.” She took a drink, then sat there with the glass cupped in her hands. “It was the wrong thing, but that doesn't make everything we did together bad. You can understand that, yeah?”

Not everything he'd done whilst a Peacekeeper had been bad. “I can. I do. I know that this has been very hard on you, Donna.”

“It's so strange,” she said, frowning. “I know what happened between me and Lance was over two years ago, but... I remember it all so clearly it seems like days. I'd dealt with it once, then I forgot. I mean, I knew something was missing. Everything felt off. I can't explain how really.” She chased a droplet of condensation down the side of her glass. “Now it's all back in my head, and it's like just days have passed, and I'm having to deal with it again. That's why...”

Bialar put a hand over hers. “I realise that now. I am sorry. You must be so confused, and then I did not help by pushing so hard.”

“You deserved to know what was going on.” Her smile was pained. “I really haven't meant to tease you, Bialar. Just... everything's changed. I need to sort myself out before–” Colour flushed her face. “You'd think I would have learnt about jumping into things, wouldn't you?”

“I am glad you have not. It would be a shame for your heart to be so guarded.” Now he understood her occasional reticence towards him, he would ensure that he did not make her feel pressurised or afraid again. It seemed a true quirk of fate for someone in need of gentle care to have ended up with a man who knew next to nothing about such things. “Perhaps you could have fallen into better company, but as this is what you have, then I can only promise that I will never intentionally hurt you. I am willing to be guided by you, to go at your pace.”

Her smile lit her eyes. “You're perfect company,” she told him, shifting her hand so that her fingers linked his. “I couldn't have done better.”

“I sincerely doubt that.”

“Oi.” The word was hard but the squeeze of his hand was gentle. “I don't. You saved my life, because you're used to thinking quickly. I can't think of anyone else who could have done that, Bialar. Not even the Doctor.”

He snorted at that. “Then perhaps you could stop comparing the two of us. I am not him. I would never abandon you.”

“Good,” she retorted with a toss of her head. “Because I've no intention of getting left behind. I made my choice and I haven't changed my mind.” She paused and looked at him. “I can't imagine that I ever will.”

Bialar held her gaze. There was so much in her eyes, he found himself unable to speak. He settled for laying his other hand over their joined ones. He'd no idea why she liked him, but he was very glad that she did. He cleared his throat.

“Good,” he managed, his voice a little rough. “So what now?”

Donna grinned, and the last of the shadow left her eyes. “Now? We're in an alien city, Spaceman, so I reckon we ought to sample the ambience. And by ambience, I mean I need to do some shopping.”

She slipped her hand free of his and bounced out of her seat, already looking beyond the café to the sights and sounds of the rest of the city. He chuckled, relieved at the return of her usual cheery nature. While she still had to get over the recollection of her memories, and the pain that came with them, he knew she won't allow them to effect her enjoyment. Her spirit was as large as her heart, and just as wonderful.

He determined that nothing and no one would quash either again.


	2. Danger and Disappearances

The city reminded Donna of the Library. Not so much in size, since it was considerably smaller, but the tall, metal buildings had that same futurist sort of look. She rolled her eyes. Couldn't be futurist if they were here now, could it? At least she'd not voiced that idiotic observation out loud – she didn't want Bialar thinking she was dafter than he probably already did.

She looked at him. He walked at her side, close enough for her to take his hand if she wanted. With everything so close to the surface, she was a riot of confusion, torn between the growing affection for him and the experience of being betrayed twice. She wanted to trust him, but couldn't quite bring herself to commit. Maybe she ought to stop trying. Maybe things would just work themselves out.

Bialar stopped. Donna took one look at the taut expression on his face and knew something was wrong. She glanced around for the problem. The only thing that seemed out of place was a group of five people dressed all in black. Dark-tinted helmets hid their faces.

“They're Peacekeepers, aren't they?”

He nodded. “Yes, though what they're doing so far out of Peacekeeper Territory, I've no idea.”

“Would they recognise you?”

“More than likely.” His hand settled on her shoulder. “We should hide.”

Donna didn't argue. The soldiers didn't look like the sort of people she wanted finding them. Bialar led her down a side street, then into a narrow building. The door opened onto steps that wound up and then exited into a silver-walled room with armchairs scattered about and a curving counter towards the back. A green-haired man in a bright floral dress smiled at their appearance.

“We have vacancies. Rooms are three hundred credits a day, no questions asked.” The alien picked a key off the wall. “Every whim catered for.”

Heat rushed into Donna's cheeks as she realised what they'd walked into. She spluttered, but Bialar was already striding to the counter. He put something down and the alien handed over the key. When he turned back, she folded her arms and glared. “What the hell do you think you're doing?”

“Come along and I shall explain.”

“Is that what they're calling it these days?” she muttered, but she followed him up another set of stairs. It was dim and rather smelly, but at least the walls were thick. She couldn't hear what was probably going on beyond the doors on each floor.

Bialar stopped outside one and unlocked it. The room beyond was clean if sparsely decorated. Her gaze lingered on the large bed that dominated proceedings. He coughed.

“Peacekeepers have certain prejudices, especially when it comes to... relations.”

Donna arched an eyebrow. “You mean sex.”

“Yes.” She couldn't be sure, but she thought he might be blushing. “But anyway, a place such as this is the very last they would visit. Therefore we should be safe here.”

Some of the tension left her. She wandered to the narrow window and looked out. The... hotel was surrounded on all sides, restricting her view to walls and a sliver of sky. “I can't see the main street. We're not going to know when they do leave.”

Bialar gave a soft, short laugh. “Of course we will – you forget I have a distinct advantage.”

“Talyn.” How could she have forgotten the ship in orbit? She frowned at him. “Won't they spot him?”

“No, he's used to hiding.”

“That's a sad statement.”

He glanced up. “Hiding is better than the alternative, Donna.”

The tone of his voice gave her pause. “What do you mean?”

“Talyn isn't a pure Leviathan. He is a blend of biomechanoid and Peacekeeper technology.” Bialar tugged his pistol from its holster and tapped at the bubble of yellow liquid. “While I prefer to keep him hidden, or to use Starburst to escape altercations, he is equipped to deal with them.”

Donna leant against the wall, her stomach turning at what he was telling her. “Talyn has weapons?”

“Yes.”

“Has he used them? Have you used them?”

“I did only as a last resort.” A frown flickered, then he shrugged. “Well, all but once. There were... extenuating circumstances in that, though.”

“I'm sure there were.”

Bialar sighed and put his gun away. “Donna, the Peacekeepers are a military organisation. It should not surprise you to learn that their pet project was a weapon.”

She supposed it shouldn't, but she liked Talyn. It hurt to think of him used for violence, especially since Bialar had explained that he was pretty much a child. Turning from him, she stared out at the strip of blue sky. The touch on her back made her jump. He was stood behind, close enough for her to feel the warmth radiating from him. She closed her eyes.

“Much has changed,” he told her. “I have not used him against another for some time. In fact his cannon is now disarmed. I believe the weaponry was responsible for his instability. I don't plan to rearm it.”

His voice was low and gentle. His breath whispered across her cheek, a warm caress that rose goosebumps. She had to swallow hard before she could speak. Twice. “I'm very glad to hear that.”

“You care about him, don't you?” He sounded pleased. “I'm glad. He certainly likes you.”

“Good.” Donna opened her eyes, but there was no more to see out the window now than before. She considered the situation. “Do you think they might be looking for you?”

“It's possible. Talyn is a unique ship, and if he's been noticed by someone who is aware of his past, then news might have travelled back. Perhaps I have not been as careful as I should have, but I believed us safe. Peacekeepers have no jurisdiction this far out.”

“Tell them that.” Even when she pushed onto her toes, Donna couldn't see beyond the buildings. She knew Talyn was monitoring the situation, but she didn't have a transponder because she'd been idiotic enough to turn the offer down. She hated not knowing what was going on. “They're not likely to know about me, are they?” she asked, turning to look at him.

Bialar frowned. “No, why do you ask?”

“I'm gonna go watch them.” She ducked sideways, evading his grasp. “Maybe I can get close enough to figure out what they're up to.”

“Donna, no.” He came over and caught her upper arms. “You can't.”

“Why not, because I'm a woman? Cos I'm not a Peacekeeper?” She shoved his hands away. “Bugger that, Crais. I've infiltrated a Sontaran spaceship and faced bloody Daleks. I think I can cope with a few overdressed soldiers.”

His mouth opened, but then he shook his head with a sigh. “It's not that I don't think you can cope, Donna. It's that I know their kind, and that's the shoot first, ask questions later sort. I don't want you getting hurt.”

“I'll be fine.” She leant forwards and pecked a kiss on his cheek. “Trust me.”

She pirouetted and started for the door. Stopped after a couple of paces. She threw him a thoughtful look, then sauntered back, took his face between her hands and kissed him full on the mouth. He tasted vaguely of coffee. Donna pulled away and licked her lips. Bialar gave a soft groan.

“Definitely coming back,” she said, then grinned and dashed off before he could formulate a response.

* * * * *

As the women of the city wore head scarves, Donna's first stop was a shop selling them. Her dress was close enough to what they wore that she'd not drawn too much attention, but she wanted to blend into the populous. Though the Peacekeepers weren't likely to know about her, she didn't want them to notice she was different in any way.

Scarf purchased, she draped it over her head and ventured into the city once again. She wandered the streets, keeping her pace slow and casual. It was easy to affect interest in the shops – they sold everything from clothing to food with everything in between she could possibly imagine. There was even a sex shop. She coloured and dashed past. She wasn't a prude, but the kiss she'd shared with Bialar still lingered on her lips and it was all too easy to let her imagination wander.

She couldn't afford for that distraction.

A stall selling a variety of fruit and vegetables caught her eye. The... hotel they'd taken shelter in didn't seem to have a dining area, meaning they would have to feed themselves. She might as well double up her mission and get some food while she was out. She bought some fruit, then worked her way down the street, adding some cooked meat and a loaf of bread to her collection. The baker took one look at her trying to balance everything in her hands, and gave her a small wicker basket. She laughed, thanked him and turned to the street.

The sight of the soldiers froze her to the spot. They looked fairly formidable, in their dark-visored helmets and carrying rifle-like weapons. One had removed hers. She had short dark hair and the face of a hardened soldier. Her sharp gaze settled on Donna for a moment, then moved on.

Donna breathed out and moved to the next shop. She had to act normal, as if she belonged here. The shop sold bottles of alcohol. Buying one might not be the best idea – she didn't need her any lower where Bialar was concerned – but it brought her closer to the Peacekeepers and being able to overhear anything they happened to say.

She browsed the bottles, picking them up and glancing over the labels. What was left of the TARDIS in her head wasn't quite enough to translate the text, so she'd no idea what anything said. She pretended, ears on the conversation happening just outside.

“Have you searched the area fully?” the woman was asking one of the soldiers. A metallic voice answered in the negative. “Frell. Okay, I don't think she came here. Let's wrap this up and head back to the Carrier.”

Donna breathed a slight sigh of relief – whoever they were looking for, it wasn't Bialar. He'd still have to stay undercover until they'd left, though. She wondered what their reaction to him would be, considering he was meant to be dead. Watching them, she could see how much he still resembled the life he'd left behind. She needed to do something about that. She bought the bottle she'd been cradling and walked straight past the soldiers to the clothes shop across the street.

A few minutes later, she walked out again, having spent a few more of his credits. That got her thinking about what they did once they ran out. The Doctor had just travelled from one place to the next and never worried about money. She doubted that would work for her and Bialar. There were a few things she'd brought from home that she could probably trade or sell, but after that? It was something they have to discuss.

And she really ought to be getting back to him, before he decided to tear the city apart looking for her.

The Peacekeepers were still loitering in the middle of the street went she exited the shop. As she walked past, the woman called out. “You there!”

Donna went cold, but she turned with a slight smile. “Me?”

“Yes. We're searching for a woman. About your height, red hair, armed. She's very dangerous. Have you seen anyone like her?”

“No,” Donna replied, truthfully. “But I shall certainly keep an eye out.”

The Peacekeeper frowned. “Your accent is strange. Are you from this city?”

“No, I'm just visiting.” An idea occurred and she grinned at the woman. “With my husband.”

“Ah.” Mild distaste flickered across her face. “Well, thank you for your assistance.”

Donna nodded and headed back up the street. It struck her odd how against relationships the Peacekeepers were. Her heart ached for Bialar. A man as caring as he was must have been stifled on those austere ships. She couldn't imagine it. Not for one moment.

Had he been like that, though? He'd told her something of his past, though it had come across more like a military report – he'd not gone into personal details except in the briskest of manners. She got the impression he wasn't overly proud of what he'd become.

She got glimpses of it, every so often. Like back on the planet with the purple sky and the... elephant. That flash of darkness. He'd needed her to stop him then, just as she'd stopped the Doctor. And she needed him.

His gentle acceptance of her, his understanding of what she'd gone through and his determination that nothing else would ever harm her were helping to ease the conflict of the newly-integrated memories. He was helping her heal. She knew she was falling hard and fast, but it was like she'd found a part of herself she had never known was missing.

Her steps quickened. He had to be worried about her, and she hated that thought. She was running by the time she found the side street. She took the stairs up to their room two at a time. Panting, she unlocked the door and flung it open.

The room was empty.

Donna knew one moment of pure horror, then her brain caught up and she groaned aloud. He had to have gone looking, didn't he? He couldn't just stay put for once. Bloody man. He'd be the death of her.

She shook her head and dumped the bags on the bed. Now what did she do? If she went out again, she'd more than likely miss him in the crowds. They'd both end up wandering around, each looking for the other. No, she had to stay here and wait.

And kill him when he got back.


	3. Choices

There was only one guard with the transporter. Bialar snorted at the display of incompetence. Not that he was going to complain about his job being made easier – the sooner he got this done, the sooner he could get back. Hopefully before Donna did.

He flinched a little at what her likely reaction to finding him gone would be. He'd never hear the end of it. As it was, Talyn had a few choice things to say about it, and Bialar didn't remember teaching him those words.

 _“Will you hush?”_ he thought across the link. _“I need to concentrate.”_

~This is stupid and unnecessary. What if they recognise you?~

_“There's one, and he won't even see me.”_

Rushing the soldier reminded Bialar a little too much of being on the Command Carrier just before... that. He tackled him from behind, sending him sprawling in the dust with one hard blow to the back of his neck. He checked the man's pulse, ensuring he'd done nothing more than knock him out, then pulled him inside the transporter. He wondered idly how Aeryn was doing.

~There's a name you have neglected to mention to Donna~ Talyn's voice was terse. ~She is not the only one with an emotional past~

 _“Aeryn is definitely in the past.”_ Bialar headed to the control section, sitting heavily in the pilot's seat and then casually pulling the communication panel open. _“She was a momentary distraction, nothing more.”_

~I am sure Donna would understand~

For a hybrid starship, sentient or not, Talyn was very good at sarcasm. Bialar didn't remember teaching him that, either.

He did have a point, though – while he had told Donna about his Peacekeeper past, there were a couple of things he had omitted. Both related to his love life, what there had been of that. He'd not thought about them. There wasn't room in his head for more than her. She dominated every thought without even trying.

Twisting two wires together, Bialar listened the blast of radio feed and wondered if that was what love truly was. He'd been with Darinta for two years, but had that been more a case of doing something he shouldn't have? A little rebellion against the regime he hated as much as he was part of? He'd not cared enough to take her with him. When he'd gone back, it was for Talyn and she just happened to be there.

If the Peacekeepers caught Donna, he'd tear their ships apart with his bare hands to get to her.

The feed crackled. He adjusted the twist and the static cleared. He listened just long enough to be sure the military presence wasn't to do with him, then he repaired the station. He wiped every surface, then edged to the hatch. The landing area was empty. He walked away without looking back.

The hotel was blessedly cool after the heat of the day. He walked up the stairs, most of his attention of a conversation with Talyn.

_“Continue to monitor their communications but ensure you stay out of sight. They're not looking for us, and I'd rather them not have any reason to.”_

~I do know what I'm doing~

Bialar sighed. He unlocked the door and went into the room. A fist slammed his upper arm. For a woman with no military training, Donna didn't half pack a punch.

“Where the hell have you been?” She glared at him, cheeks flushed with fury. It sparked in her eyes. Damn, but she was glorious when she was angry. “I told you to stay here!”

“I'm sorry but–”

“But? Don't give me bloody but, Spaceman. I've been worried sick!”

He looked at her. Her anger had drained somewhat, leaving shadows under her eyes. He caught the shimmer of fear. She went to smack him again but he snagged her wrist, dragging her close. She tensed, breathing hard. He ran a hand down her back.

“I hate you so much right now,” she muttered, but she sagged a little and when her arms circled his shoulders, her grip was tight.

“So I noticed.”

“You're such a twat.”

His microbes translated the word and he winced. “That bad, huh?”

“Definitely.” She still clung to him, small tremors rattling through her. He held her tighter. “So what the hell needed your attention that you had to scare me half to death?”

Bialar chuckled. “I went to their ship and broke into the radio feed. I wanted to know what they were after.”

Donna pulled back, apparently just so he could see the roll of her eyes. “Not you, as attractive as you are,” she said, tone sour. “They're looking for a woman. Who, by the way, doesn't appear to be here so they were planning on leaving.” She tilted her head. “You better not have given them a reason to stay.”

He winced again. She gave a low groan and thumped her forehead against his chest. “It might be for the best if we use the room to maximum effect,” he told her.

“I bet you say that to all the girls.”

“Why should I want to? I don't want anyone but you.”

Donna groaned again, but when she lifted her head, her eyes were shining. “I ought to be pissed,” she confessed. “But I can't stay angry at you. Especially not when you say things like that.”

He considered her. She was pressed close, all warmth and curves, and frell but she felt good. His gaze settled on her lush lips, slightly parted. It was tempting. Very, very tempting. But he'd promised to let her lead. As hard as it was – and parts of him were heading in that direction – he had to keep to that oath.

Confusion flickered over her face as he let her go. His libido screamed. Talyn sighed at the back of his head. He echoed the sentiment. “Donna, I–”

“It's okay.” She pulled her arms across her chest, her expression an agony of indecision. “I get it.”

“Do you? Do you have any idea how hard this is for me?”

She dropped her gaze. “I'm–”

“If you apologise, I'll spank you.” The words were out before he'd thought about them. Her head jerked back up, a blush staining her cheeks. “Well, I will. You have nothing to apologise for. I just need you to know that you're not the only one struggling here.”

“Then what do we do?” Her hand lifted and then dropped; a small, helpless gesture that wrenched at his heart. “We're going to drive each other mad at this rate.”

“I think... I think we just need to take one step at a time.” As frustrating as that was when all he wanted to do was pull her down on the bed and–– He coughed, his face heating at the thought. “Might be easier said than done,” he noted.”

“Says you,” she sighed. “I just... I feel like there's something unfinished. I need closure, but I'm not likely to get it.”

Bialar shifted the bags off the bed and sat down. He held a hand out. She came without hesitation, linking her fingers with his as she sat right next to him. She rested her head on his shoulder with a small sigh that sounded like defeat.

“Why are you putting up with me?” she asked.

Frowning at their hands, he tried to put his complex emotions into words. “Because you're special. You don't think that you are, but I look at you, and I see everything I want to be. You're so open and full of wonder, and I've lost that. With you, I get some of it back.”

Her mouth dropped open. Her eyes filled and then she twisted on the bed and threw her arms around him. He pulled her close. His desire for her had nothing on the simple need for someone to belong to. Who belonged to him.

~Family~ Talyn supplied. Bialar could only agree.

* * * * *

Donna made a dinner of bread and meat, followed up by fruit and more wine than she ought to have consumed given she was spending the night with Bialar. He'd offered to sleep on the floor, but that was just ridiculous – they were both adults, so surely they could stay in the same bed for one bloody night without it ending in the physical.

And even if they couldn't, well, the universe wasn't likely to implode. And she doubted having sex with him would hardly be a trial.

She changed her dress for one of the shirts she'd bought him, wearing it over her knickers, then slipped between the sheets. She curled on her side, a yawning gap between them, and eventually fell asleep.

The sky was still grey when she woke up. Enough light crept in to light Bialar's slumbering face and for Donna to realise that during her sleep, she'd gravitated towards him. Sighing at how pathetic that made her, she propped up on one elbow and gazed down at him.

His eyelashes were ridiculously long for a male of any species. She traced the line of his brow, then the curve of his cheek. He was beautiful. Leaning closer, she brushed his lips with a feather-light kiss. Then she shifted her attention down.

The scars were faint shadows in the thin, pre-dawn light. She touched each one, committing their location to memory. Elsewhere, his skin was velvet smooth and warm beneath her palm. A thin line of dark hair drew her fingers over his abdomen to the band of the shorts he wore. The material was close-fitting, leaving little to her imagination. It worked overtime anyway.

She still couldn't get over how important he considered her. It was humbling and yet so incredible. It filled her with so much emotion, she thought she might explode from it. And yet...

Donna sighed and pushed away from him. She would not tease him, or herself. Not while there was still a hole in her heart. He filled every other part of it, but there was that one thing not even he could fix. Not unless he stole her memories back, and he wouldn't even if she begged him to.

That left her in the middle, stranded between her past with the Doctor and the future she wanted to build with Bialar. She had no idea how to bridge the gap.

He shifted with a mutter. She glanced over her shoulder to see he'd moved onto his side. The red light on the transponder was bright in the gloom. Her eyes widened. Oh, she was a complete idiot! Of course that was the answer! All she needed to do was wait until they were back on Talyn. Then she'd tell him she wanted the link.

Though looking at the metal prongs that pierced his skin, she wondered if she wanted it enough and shuddered. It would hurt – her neck was still sore from the original procedure – but if she was ever going to sort things out, then short of happening across the TARDIS, Talyn's link was the only way to go.

She slipped out of bed and padded to the window. Had the Peacekeepers gone now? She'd no idea if the danger had passed or not. Or how long it was until dawn. Leaning against the wall, she watched the sky lighten slowly.

“Donna?”

Jerking out of her rumination, she wheeled, a little dazed. He sat in the bed, the sheet pooled about his waist. “Huh?”

“Is something wrong?” he sounded concerned. And sleepy. It was all kinds of adorable. She smiled and shook her head.

“No, I'm fine. I was just thinking.”

Bialar got up and came to her. His hand on her arm was hot. “You're cold. How long have you been up?”

“I've no idea.” She'd not felt cold, not until he'd touched her. Now she shivered and huddled in his arms. “Ooh, you're lovely and warm.”

He chuckled. “I'm happy to share body heat, as long as you come back to bed.” He tilted her chin up and gazed into her eyes. “Are you sure there's nothing wrong?”

“Absolutely not. I just needed to think about something.” Donna gave him a secretive smile. “I'll tell you later, I promise.”

“Well, I'm assuming it's not that you want to go back to Earth, which is good.”

“No. Sorry, Crais, but you're stuck with me.”

He gave a dramatic sigh. “However will I cope?”

Laughing at him, Donna pulled away and then tugged him to the bed. “I'm sure I have no idea. But I do know you're all warm and I'm cold.” She patted the mattress. “Come on, you can be my very own hot water bottle.”

“I don't understand half the things you say, but I think I get that.” He climbed in beside her, then settled down before pulling her close. Donna snuggled against him. He was warm and cuddly, and her decision gave her a sense of satisfaction. “What did you decide?”

“I want to tell you on Talyn.” She ran a hand over his chest, felt his shudder of response. “If I'm right, then I've figured things out and that's where we ought to be.”

“As you wish.” He yawned widely. “Go back to sleep, Donna.”

She smiled and closed her eyes. His order was easy to obey.


	4. Thicker Than Water

Warm light woke Bialar. For a moment, the unfamiliar butter-coloured walls gave him a sense of displacement, then he remembered where he was, and why. And then who with.

Donna had pressed up against him after returning to the bed. Then not moved even after she'd warmed up once more. Now she had one arm draped over his stomach, and a small, contented smile on her face.

Bialar pushed her hair back. Slumber relaxed her features, erasing the lines of grief she probably wasn't even aware of having. He knew she thought herself weak. He did not. She was the strongest person he'd ever met, always looking for the good in everything, even after being dealt such a hand. Her wonder at the universe was so pure, so innocent. Part of him wanted to shelter her from the darker side, while the other knew full well she needed no such protection.

He brushed his palm down her arm. The motion tugged at the fabric of the shirt she wore, pulling the neck wider. Shadows gathered in her cleavage, drawing his attention. He lifted his hand away and then touched the hollow of her throat with one finger. Breath held, he traced the line of her sternum down, feeling how her skin got warmer the deeper he investigated.

Donna muttered in her sleep and rolled onto her back.

Guilt stabbed at Bialar. Frowning at his behaviour, he got out of bed, removing himself from further temptation. It didn't help that his mind chose that moment to recall her kiss before she'd gone to spy on the Peacekeepers. He could remember with perfect clarity the softness of her hands on his cheeks, the press of her breasts against his chest, the flick of her tongue. He buried his face in his hands with a groan.

~If you're going to be like that, could you at least remove the transponder?~ Talyn's tone was cool and irritated. ~Some things still bleed through.~

Embarrassment flooded him. _“I'm sorry, I hadn't considered that.”_

~Clearly not.~

Bialar decided a cold shower was in order. He gathered his clothes and stepped into the bathroom. After relieving himself, he stood under a freezing flow of water, attempting to cool his libido. It did help a little. Enough that when he got out to towel off vigorously, he felt more focussed. He dressed and dared to venture into the bedroom.

Donna was sat on the edge of the bed, combing fingers through her hair. She smiled on seeing him; a full, bright one that lit her eyes. Frell, but she was beautiful. Bialar sighed as the effects of the shower evaporated in an instant.

“What's up with you?” she asked him. “Not a morning person?”

“I'm fine.” He heard his tone and knew she'd never believe that. “Really. I'm just... Never mind.”

“Frustrated?” she suggested. Her smile turned wicked. “Horny?”

“Behave, Donna. I'm attempting to be good, but it's rather a strain.”

Her smile faded. “It's as hard for me, you know.”

“I do.” Not wanting to start the day off with such a conversation, Bialar grabbed one of her shopping bags. “How about some breakfast? Then we can make our way back to the transporter and Talyn.”

“That sounds like a very good idea.”

Donna got up and found her dress. As she vanished into the bathroom, Bialar worked at figuring how what they could eat. The room had no cooking facilities, so it would have to be a cold meal again. He slipped the knife out of his boot and cut up the remaining fruit, then sliced the last loaf. It wasn't much of a meal, but there was more food on Talyn.

Thinking of his ship, he remembered that Donna wanted to tell him something – a thing she was keeping to herself until they'd returned. He had no idea what it could be. Hopefully, it was related to what was going on between them, in a good way. The fact she planned on going back assured him that she'd not decided enough was enough. His heart still clenched at the thought.

It was ridiculous. How could he feel so much for her when they'd been together for so little time? How had she become so important to him? He didn't understand. All he knew was that he hurt when she did, that her tears could tear his heart out, that her smile made his soul soar.

The bathroom door opened and Bialar pushed all those thoughts to the back of his mind. “I've used the last of the food you bought to make breakfast.” He wrinkled his nose. “Well, I cut things up. Not sure if that counts as 'making', really.”

“It counts.” Donna sat on the bed and grabbed a slice of bread. “I should have bought something else to drink – I don't think wine first thing is a good idea!”

He chuckled along with her, then shook his head. “Not before piloting the transporter, no.”

“Don't drink and fly?”

“Absolutely not.”

She grinned at him, then settled to eat her breakfast. Bialar followed suit, finding himself rather hungry. They ate in companionable silence. Yet he sensed a slight tension in her, and wondered at the source. He almost asked, then decided that if she wanted to tell him, she would. In the meantime, he'd respect her need to keep some things to herself.

With breakfast over and the Peacekeepers gone, there was nothing left to keep them on the planet. Bialar felt a little guilty over how much of the city they'd seen. As they walked out of the hotel, he caught Donna's hand.

“If you would like to do some more... sight-seeing, you only need ask.”

She squeezed his fingers. “There'll be other worlds. I want to talk to you, but not here.”

He stared at the glimmer in her eyes. She seemed to be holding a deep secret, but only just – she almost vibrated with excitement, yet he swore there was an edge of nervousness to it. Afraid of his response? There was nothing she could tell him that he would hate to hear, other than if she expressed a desire to go home.

“As you wish,” he said, forcing humour into his voice. He offered her his arm. “Shall we, then?”

~ ~ ~

Donna barely saw the houses she walked past. Her emotions swung from excitement at her plan, to utter fear over it. She wanted to explain her quietness to Bialar, but couldn't without spilling the beans. And she couldn't do that until they were on Talyn.

It was partly because she wanted the ship to know of her decision. But mostly because if she put the thought into words here, she'd probably chicken out before getting there. She could always make something up in replacement. One alternative was already pulling at her, encouraged by her proximity to Bialar.

Even having her hand lightly on his arm awoke parts of her that had been quiet since Lance. Before then, really – she'd been more in love with the idea of marriage than him. She might have felt guilty about that, had he not tried to feed her to a massive spider first. What she felt now was nothing to the way Bialar made her feel. Lance had certainly never sent her heart pounding with a single glance.

Thinking of her ex didn't bring the usual pain, but rather a distant ache, and Donna realised she'd come to terms with losing him. Carefully, she let her mind wander to recollections of the Doctor. Oddly, the thing she thought about was Midnight, and of his quiet horror at what had overtaken him. She remembered wishing she'd gone with him. She still regretted the choice to stay behind. It was not a mistake she would make again.

“Where are we off to next?” she asked, desperate to break the silence between them.

Bialar started, then smiled down at her. “Talyn reports that there's a space station in the next sector. If nothing else, I do need to stock up our stores, though I doubt that will be overly exciting.”

They walked into the landing area as Donna chuckled. “I can survive without having to run, you know.”

He grinned back at her, squeezing her fingers. Then something moved in the shadows. Donna glanced over. Her idle curiosity bloomed to horror at the dark spacesuit and black helmet. She yelped as the Peacekeeper soldier swung his gun up. She shoved Bialar more out of instinct than anything else. A yellow bolt of light shot across the intervening space.

She saw it hit him. Heard his cry of pain. The world greyed out as he collasped to his knees. Then she saw the soldier coming closer, weapon at the ready. No! She dived to cover him, her hand groping his right thigh. The pistol was heavy and felt very alien. She'd no real idea of what she was doing – she just pointed the business end at the soldier and pressed what she hoped was the trigger.

Her bolt hit his rifle, causing it to explode in his hands. He dropped it with a cry of his own, then promptly realised he was now unarmed. Fury misted her eyes, but as she took aim, she heard Bialar's weak voice.

“Donna. No.”

The soldier took her moment of distraction and ran for his life. She let him go, wobbly at the knees as it dawned that she'd just been a moment away from killing a man. Nausea rose. She flung the pistol away from her.

A slight moan brought her attention back. She took in Bialar's grey face with its lines of pain, and the blood already soaking his tunic. She dropped to the dirt and pulled him round as gently as she could. A ragged hole in the fabric revealed a mess of blood and scorched flesh. God, but that looked painful. She met his gaze.

“That's not good, is it?”

“Need to get to Talyn.” His words were punctuated by heavy gasps for breath. The effort they'd taken was immediately apparent. He came to the same conclusion as she did at the same time. “You fly.”

“I can't! Talyn's one thing – he can adjust for my mistakes. If I try to fly the transporter...”

Bialar covered her hand. “You can do it. I know you can.”

She looked down. The tan of his tunic had gotten redder. He was losing blood, and fast. The rifle was designed to kill. It was probably only the fact he'd not taken the shot straight on that he was hanging in now. She could have lost him. Might still, if she didn't buck her ideas up.

“Right.” Donna stood up, fiercely pushing the turmoil of fear and dread to one side. “Up you get.”

She helped him, as much as she was able. With an arm wrapped around his waist, she led him to the transporter, then let him sink into the passenger seat. There was a first aid kit under the seat. Its contents were basic, but there was a large pad that she pressed to the wound, and a bandage she used to secure it in place.

“Better?” she asked.

“Marginally.”

“We'll be back soon.” Donna sat at the controls. All she had to do was replicate what she'd seen him do. Piece of cake, right? She blew out a breath and started the engines.

It was perhaps not the smoothest of flights. Still, as the transporter settled in Talyn's hanger, Donna felt a small shaft of victory. That drained the second she looked at Bialar. She went and opened the hatch, then came back and eased him up. His breathing was shallow and rapid, his skin drenched with sweat. Every step took an effort and it seemed forever until she was able to help him into his bed.

“What do I do now?”

“DRD.”

A whine of mechanics drew her attention down. The little red-and-black droid had a thick, wand-like device held in its pinches. She bent and retrieved it. Turning it over in her hands, Donna found a single button. She shoved the thought of sonic screwdrivers out of her mind and focussed on him,

“I press this and... what?”

“Against the wound.”

She looked from the flat, round end to the bloody mess of his back. “Will it hurt?”

“Donna,” he breathed. “I'm bleeding out. Will die if you don't.”

That decided her. The button clicked in and the disc glowed red. Yet she couldn't feel any heat emanating from it. She lowered her hand until the disc hovered just above Bialar's broken skin. He hissed and his hands grabbed at the bed sheet.

“Sorry,” she apologised automatically. “Um, do I touch you with this or what?”

“No, just – frell – like that.” He swore again and pressed his face into his pillow.

Donna took a deep breath and moved the disc in slow motions above the wound. He made no further noise, but maintained his grip tight on the sheet. That and the occasional tense of his muscles told her the process was painful.

On the other hand, she could see it working – the red rawness becoming black scabbing as whatever the disc put out cauterised the wound. After a while more, Bialar raised his head.

“Enough,” he said, voice rough. “If it's stopped bleeding, that's enough.”

“Yeah.” Donna turned the device off, then handed it back to the DRD. She was glad to be rid of it, and wiped her hands on her dress. “Now what?”

“I need to sleep.” He opened one eye and managed a weak smile. “Sorry. I know you'd something to tell me. Needs to wait, I'm afraid.”

Donna was just glad to hear him speak without that horrid pained panting. She smiled back and stroked his arm. “Doesn't matter, love. You get some rest. I'll be here when you wake up, and then we can talk, okay?”

“Sure.”

His eyes were already closed. She continued to stroke his arm while his breathing slowed, and his body relaxed. Then she leaned over him and placed a light kiss on his cheek. “Sleep well.”

Donna left Bialar's bedroom, not really sure of where she was going until she found herself on Command. She was shaking from the aftermath of treating Bialar, of being the cause of his pain, no matter how important it had been to stop the bleeding. Her throat was tight and a knot lay heavy in her chest. She could have lost him. He could have died and he'd never have known...

“Oh God.”

She let gravity pull her to the deck. Dropping her face into her hands, she sobbed out the fear and guilt until there was nothing but an ache deep inside. She sniffed and dried her eyes. Talyn beeped at her, the sound somehow sounding concerned. She patted the deck.

“It's okay, I'm just all over the place. People have too many emotions. What about you, do you feel things?”

Another soft bleep answered her. She took it as an affirmative.

“He'll be okay, I think. I hope so. I do care about him.” The lump rose in her throat. “No, I love him. I realise that now. Stupid how it took him getting shot, isn't it?”

Donna shook her head and dabbed at her eyes again. “He told me you offered the other transponder. I'm sorry I refused it then, but I was so messed up. I still am, really, but there's one thing I am sure of and that's him. I was going to tell him I wanted it now.”

Talyn issued a flurry of beeps and whistles. Donna patted the floor again. “Are you sure?”

A section of the deck opened in response. Out of it emerged a metal tentacle with three finger-like protrusions. In their grasp was a round device that, while much smaller, still resembled Bialar's transponder enough for her to know what it is.

“That'll be a 'yes', then.” She shifted on the floor so that her back was towards the arm, then pulled her hair out of the way. She closed her eyes. “Okay, Talyn, let's do this.”

The impact threw her forwards. The pain came a moment later, so intense that it was all she could think about. Her head felt like it was about to explode. She choked on a sob, curling in on herself as it spread through her... and then began to ebb.

Her tears dried as her senses expanded. She could feel the ship – the itch from a half-healed system, the slide of space against his hull – and the stars... dear God she could see forever and ever.

Blinking, Donna pushed against the floor, righting herself. “Talyn?”

~I am here, Donna Noble.~

She didn't so much hear the voice, as it formed in her head, the words accompanied with an emotion she felt in her marrow. It was a young voice. It also sounded a little like Bialar. A rumble shook the ship.

~Perhaps I do~ Talyn's amusement seemed to fizz in her blood. ~We shall put it down to long exposure~

“Oh, I'm sure that's the only reason for any similarity,” Donna replied sarcastically. But thinking about Bialar hurt, and she hugged her knees. “He was quite badly injured.”

~Sebaceans heal quickly, and he is strong. Not to mention stubborn~

Donna laughed. “Yeah, just a little.” Still, hearing that did make her feel rather better. “So he'll be okay, then?”

~I see no reason for him to be otherwise. I shall monitor him though, if that would reassure you~

“Thanks,” she said. In reality, she knew the only thing that would really reassure her was seeing him back to normal. She sighed and rubbed at her neck. Her hand came away bloody. “Hm, think I should clean that up. I'm not Sebacean.”

Getting to her feet caused her vision to swim. Donna grabbed the nearest console to steady herself. “Ooh.”

~Your nausea will pass as your mind adjusts~ Talyn informed her. ~I will limit how much information the transponder receives until that happens~

“I need long-range scanners.” The recollection of what had happened on the planet gave Donna a shiver of fear. “I can only assume the Peacekeeper shot him because he recognised him. He's going to tell them he's alive. That you're alive. We're all in danger now.”

~They have to find us first~

Even with the limitations on the transponder, Donna felt the initial charge of Starburst in her bones. It was like static on her skin, a surge of adrenaline in her blood. Her mind's eye showed the space open up and then they were shooting forwards, at a speed that quite took her breath away. God, had Bialar gotten used to this? She couldn't see how such a thing was possible – it was thrilling.

It ended with a jolt. She came to herself, not realising until that moment of sudden clarity that her mind had joined so thoroughly with Talyn's. Laughing, she shook her head to clear it. “Whoa.”

~Are you all right, Donna Noble?~

“Yeah, fine.” She patted the wall reassuringly. “And it's just Donna. We're family now after all.”

And there was one part of it that wasn't aware of that yet. Sure Talyn had Starburst to a safer region of the universe, Donna left Command and headed back to Bialar's room. Her intentions were varied – not only did she want to check on him, but she wanted to tell him what she'd done and why. He had her heart, and it was time she finally told _him_ that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unlike Bialar, Donna tends to talk to Talyn out loud. I hope this wasn't too confusing!


	5. Cohesion

Something had changed. Bialar sat up in his bed, mind immediately running through Talyn's various systems in search of the anomaly. He didn't find any untoward. Instead he got a sense of smugness from his ship. Wincing at the pull of his half-healed wound, he pulled himself out the bed.

“What are you up to?” he asked Talyn out loud.

He got no answer. Then the door to his quarters slid open and Donna stepped in. Her face expressed surprise at seeing him, which rapidly gave way to delight.

“I didn't expect to see you up.” She came over and touched him lightly on the shoulder. “How are you feeling?”

“Sore,” he replied wryly. “And my ship is behaving oddly.”

Donna frowned. “Oddly?”

“He seems very excited about something, but refuses to share.”

“Ah.” A smile curved her lips and she sat down next to him. “That's probably because he's letting me do that.”

Bialar only had a moment to feel the briefest flicker of concern, then she'd taken his hand, eyes alight with so much emotion he found his breath caught. Her thumb ran over his knuckles. She opened her mouth, hesitated, then inhaled deeply.

“It wasn't what happened,” she said, her words slow as if she were unsure of what to say. “I mean, that frightened me and I guess made me realise I couldn't keep waiting. Life's too short. And when I thought you might lose yours, I couldn't bear it.” Her voice choked and her grip on his hand tightened. “Not just that I would lose you, but because you'd die not... not knowing how much you meant to me. I love you, Bialar Crais, and I know that is crazy, but it's true and I just–”

He couldn't let her continue. Using her hold to pull her forwards, he cupped her face and kissed her full on the mouth. She gave a slight gasp that morphed into a moan. Then her arms were around his neck, and her lips were apart, and her tongue danced against his.

She tasted of blood and tears. The latter wasn't surprising, but he wondered at the former. But she was leaning into him, her body warm and pliant and testing his reserve, and he forgot that concern. Until he slid his hand into her hair and his fingers touched a hardness at the back of her neck. He pulled away, eyes wide.

“Donna?”

Her smile was tremulous. “It's what I'd decided, what I was going to tell you. Then all hell broke loose and I'd no idea if you were going to be okay and–”

He placed a finger over her lips. “All right, hush.” He cupped her cheek and smiled. “It's more than all right. Of course, I'd rather it hadn't been because you were so scared but... Donna, I've wanted this for so long.”

Her eyes closed and she leaned into his touch with a sigh. “I know. It's amazing. _He's_ amazing.” Opening her eyes, she caught his tunic in one hand. “So are you.”

Her almost shy glance eroded a little more of his control. Desire rose, hot and hungry, but he banked it firmly. They'd gotten this far and he would not frighten her now. Her fingertips grazed his skin and his resolve wavered. “No more than you, I'm sure,” he said.

“You've put up with me. I know it's not been easy.”

“Nothing worthwhile ever is.”

She smiled at that. “Am I, then? Worthwhile, I mean.”

“Frell, yes.” He pulled her closer, revelled in how she simply relaxed into his embrace. “It was only ever a matter of time. I think I always knew that, even back on Earth.”

“Fate,” she whispered.

“I never used to believe in such things,” he admitted. “But what are the chances that we found each other? That I had the one ship capable of saving you? That you would be the one to save me?”

Donna lifted her head. Her eyes shone and his heart jumped at the emotion they contained. “I'm really glad I chased after you,” she said, lips twitching into a grin. “And I'm really, really glad you stopped.”

Bialar chuckled, the lowered his head. It was hard to keep the kiss restrained when all he wanted was to pull her down to the bed and his back be damned. He ran a hand down her back, felt her shudder in response, and squeezed his eyes shut tight.

“Bialar?”

“Hm?”

“You can start, you know.” Her gaze was direct, with no glimmer of shyness or embarrassment. “That is, if your back can take it.”

He stared at her. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I really am.” As if to prove that, she worked open the uppermost fastening of his tunic. “If you are. Because I've wanted you pretty much from the first moment I saw you, and it's driving me mad.” The hardness faded from her expression, and a hint of vulnerability darkened her eyes. “It's like there's a hole inside me. I need you, Bialar. So much it hurts.”

He drew her head to his shoulder and stroked her hair. “I know how that is.”

Donna shivered against him. For all her brash confidence, he knew that it took tremendous courage for her to give him her heart. He treasured the gift, but more, he wanted to return it with interest. “I need you, too,” he told her.

Her hand caressed his chest, then she unwound from him and stood. Her smile was wide as she reached one hand behind her. The sound of the metal zip undoing was sound in the silence. He watched her pull the dress off, his body reacting to the reveal of her pale skin. She wore the briefest of underclothes. He raked his eyes over the curve of her hip, let his gaze rest on the generous swell of her bosom.

“Well?” she said, her tone a challenge. It was so her that he laughed. “Don't laugh at me, Spaceman.”

Bialar got to his feet. “I wasn't, not really. You're beautiful.”

An eyebrow winged. “And that's funny.”

“It takes too much to explain, and I have other things I want to do.” He held out a hand. “Come here?”

She put her hand in his and he drew her in. Her skin was soft silk under his palm. The item of clothing holding her breasts had an odd clasp at the back that took him three attempts to undo. Now it was her turn to chuckle. He flung the offending piece to one side, thinking he'd have a DRD pick the wretched thing up and space it. Then she pressed in and the thought scattered.

By preventing large or sudden movements, his half-healed wound acted like a rein on his burgeoning desire, forcing him to go slow and steady. He chose to savour the moments, every touch of her skin, each rise and dip of her body, the soft catch of her breath as he traced her lines. Talyn dimmed the lights, deepening the intimacy of the room, then withdraw his connection until it was the thinnest of lines.

Bialar filled one hand with Donna's left breast. She arched into his touch with a ragged groan. She lay on her back, he on his left side so his weight was off the injury. Not that it mattered – his awareness of it was eclipsed by that of her. She seemed both new and familiar, filling him with the wonder of discovery while part of him felt like he'd come home.

He broke from a long, deep kiss to haul air into his lungs. Her eyes were impossibly dark, the pupils blown by lust and love. She loved him. And he... he had not told her. “I love you, Donna Noble,” he murmured, aware that the reply was rather late in coming.

It didn't seem to matter. Not if her smile was anything to go by. She looped her arms around his neck and dragged him back down. He let himself sink on to her. Into the warm softness that curled around him, claiming him as hers as much as she gave herself to him.

* * * * *

None of Donna's previous boyfriends had been overly generous in the foreplay department and, while she appreciated Bialar's... _thoroughness_ in light of that, she honestly wanted him to get on with it. Preferably before she combusted from the need burning her.

Easing him away gently, she shot him a reassuring smile then worked the rest of the fastenings open on his tunic. She traced his chest as she'd done in the early hours of the morning, when she'd almost taken this path. Doubt had stopped her then. It wasn't going to interfere this time. She beared one arm, then paused.

“Are you sure you're gonna be okay with that back?”

He nodded. “Absolutely. Don't worry about it, Donna.”

“It's my job.” She poked his chest. “So don't you go giving me any bullshit. I might want you, but if we're going to make matters worse, I'll wait.”

“I won't.” He leaned down and claimed her lips. It was a lot harder to do the right thing when his hand was caressing her breast. “Not sure I'd care if I would.”

“I care, though, and oh God, please don't do that when I'm trying to think!”

His thumb rubbed her nipple again, sending a jolt down her spine to lower parts that throbbed in response. He chuckled and nuzzled her neck. The tickle of his beard made her squirm. She was losing the tread of her argument, and grasped at the end before it escape her altogether.

“Bialar, I mean it.”

“So do I, my love. Hush now. Trust me.”

Well, put that way, she'd no argument at all. She sank back with a defeated sigh. His lips pursed in the hollow of her throat and electric danced across her skin. Oh what the hell – he was a grown man and if that was his decision, then so be it.

He pushed up, pulled his tunic all the way off, then shifted one knee between hers. She moved to accommodate him, pulse jumping at the hardness that pressed against her groin. However, there were certain barriers to his being able to get any further – she still had her knickers on, never mind he still wore his trousers.

“Pants,” she breathed. “Off.”

“I was busy.”

What was occupying him was her breasts, and yeah that was really nice, but it also made her want other things. Thing that couldn't happen right now.

“Off,” Donna repeated, shoving him off her. She pushed the waistband of her knickers over her hips, then wriggled out of them altogether. “Or do you not know how this works?”

“Oh, I know.” Bialar's voice was low, and she shivered at the dangerous undertone. “Don't worry about that, either.”

She watched him slip off the bed, shamelessly ogling as he stripped out of his trousers. He'd a nice arse. There were hints he'd been in better condition that he was now, not that he was overweight exactly, just a little padded. Not that she cared either way – she loved him exactly as he was.

“So that I'm not worrying, d'you want to get over here and reassure me?” she asked, grinning when he arched an eyebrow at her.

“Subtle,” he noted.

“Horny.” Donna leaned on one elbow. His gaze drifted and she smirked at the naked hunger in his expression. “Stop mucking about and come here.”

He came to the bed. She made room for him, a sigh of contentment escaping at the pleasant weight of his body. Her eyes closed as he retraced her side. Then he shifted his hips and her breath caught. It had been a while and–

Her doubts flew at the first press between her thighs. He moved in slow, giving her chance to adjust or refuse if she chose. The gentleness of it made her throat tight. Some of it must have shown on her face, because he stopped.

“Donna?”

“It's okay.” Bloody hell, why was she crying? She saw his concern, felt a slight shift as he went to withdraw. “Please don't. I am okay, I swear.”

“Then why are you crying?”

“I don't know! I... God, you feel so good. I'm sorry. I didn't–” She gave up trying to explain. It was impossible when she didn't fully understand it herself. She wrapped her legs around his to prevent him moving further away, then tugged his head down. She slipped her tongue into his mouth, trying to put into the kiss what she couldn't manage the words for.

He settled back on to her. After they broke the kiss to breathe, he shifted his hips again; just the slightest lift and thrust, but enough to make her shudder at the friction. His face was still clouded with uncertainty. Knowing how much he didn't want to hurt her swelled Donna's heart. She stroked his cheek and forced a smile.

“It's okay,” she told him. “You're not gonna break me. I just... I want this so much. I love you so much.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, absolutely and completely. Bialar.” His name came out as a whine, but God it was too much to have him this close and still not... enough. “Please.”

He stared down at her for a moment, then took a deep breath. He sighed it out and then... and then...

Time stood still. Her awareness condensed to the feel of his lips on hers, the stroke of his hands, the weight of his body. Pleasure bloomed out, finally filling the ache, bringing a sense of rightness and completion. He was her other half, a piece she'd not even known was missing. And as much as he satisfied her desire, she knew she would never stop wanting him and the way he made her feel.

Right on the edge, she whimpered into his mouth, fingers digging into his skin. Tension wound deep inside her, clamouring for release. He breathed her name, enough love and wonder in that single word to bring her to tears, then he slammed in hard.

She exploded into stars and bright light.

Bialar was holding her close when she caught her breath. He grinned down at her. “Well, now. That was interesting.”

Donna laughed and thumped his back, though she put little effort behind the blow. “Don't get smug, Crais.”

“I have every reason to.” His lips brushed hers. “After all, I have everything I've ever wanted.”

She shook her head. Her fingers traced the ridge of his spine, noting the dampness of his skin. Laid on her, she could feel his heartbeat, as rapid as her own. She met his gaze. “And what's that?”

“A family.”

It sounded so simple, but the emotion in his eyes told her how much it meant to him. Talyn's awareness crept back into the back of her mind. She knew he touched Bialar in the same way, and realised that the transponder had done more that let her connect to Talyn – it had bound her to him and, by extension, to Bialar. She smiled at him.

“'I found it, all on my own,'” she quoted, knowing he wouldn't get the reference. He would understand the meaning, though. She cupped his face. “'Is little, and broken, but still good.'”

“It's very good,” he answered. “I love you.”

Donna pulled him down. Against his lips, she murmured, “I love you, too.”


	6. Closure

The space station spun lazily, lights glittering around its round edge. Bialar tapped his fingers on the console, bored of waiting for permission to dock. Talyn's stores were dangerously low and he needed to restock. The shortage was his own fault. He could have had Talyn Starburst to the station, but had chosen to travel slower, with the result it had taken days to reach it. Days he'd spent most of in bed with Donna.

While a Peacekeeper, sex had been something to relieve tension and, in the case of Darinta, a small rebellion against regulations. His bed partners had always been willing, though he had to admit they'd sometimes been less than enthusiastic. They'd certainly not been... inventive. Donna's imagination apparently knew no bounds.

In retrospect, he probably shouldn't have been surprised that she challenged him in the bedroom. It was her nature to embrace life to its fullest. And he was hardly going to complain when that enthusiasm included him. Smiling in recollection, Bialar checked the comms again. Were they ever going to be allowed to dock?

Finally, the order came and he guided Talyn to the docking clamp. It wasn't a procedure he liked, preferring to leave his ship flying free in case they needed to leave in haste, but they were far enough from Peacekeeper Space that there shouldn't be an issue. Talyn would keep a constant long-range scan going just in case.

“Hey, you.” Donna wandered into Command, wearing a short-sleeved top and trousers, her hair back in a loose tail. Her gaze flickered from him to the viewport. “Ooh, are we there, then?”

“Yes, just moving to dock now. “ He looped an arm around her waist as she leaned against him. He kissed the top of her head. “Sleep well?”

She chuckled. “When I was allowed to, yes.”

“Excuse me, I clearly remember you instigating just as much as I did.”

“Oh, I wasn't complaining.” She looked up, mischief lighting her eyes. “Not in the slightest.”

He grinned. “Good.”

Having Talyn able to pilot himself was useful since Donna remaining glued to his side, which would have hampered his skills otherwise. The clamp slammed into place, locking the Leviathan to the dock. Bialar powered down the engine.

“Talyn, systems to minimal.” The lights in Command dimmed. He squeezed Donna's waist. “Shall we, my love?”

“You know, most girls get flowers and dates, not grocery trips.”

“You're not most girls,” he told her. “You're so much better.”

She laughed. “Flattery will get you everywhere, Crais.”

“I wasn't aware there was anywhere left for me to get.”

Colour flushed her cheeks and she pulled away. “Oi!”

Her indignation just made him chuckle. After a moment, she joined in, abet a little wryly. “Bialar Crais, you are a very bad man.”

“Frell, yes. Come on, Donna. Let's go shopping.”

* * * * *

It had been a while since Bialar had stepped foot on a space station. In many ways it was like being back on the Command Carrier – the structure was uniform and practical, and there was a vague air of regimental organisation to it all. Had he known beforehand, he would have expected to feel at home, but instead found his skin itching.

Donna frowned at him. “What's wrong?”

Damn the transponder – even though they weren't linked directly, she'd clearly gotten a sense of concern from Talyn. He shook his head. “Nothing I can identify for certain. Perhaps nothing at all. But I feel ill at ease.”

She looked around. “I can't see anything, but I trust your instincts. Should we leave?”

“We cannot – there's not enough food in the stores.” He sighed. “I believe it is simply that the place reminds me of a Carrier which unsettles me. There is no reason for it this far from their space.”

Donna's expression remained doubtful. “If you're sure...”

“I am. Forget it.”

It took her a few minutes, but once she was involved in tasting new foods and chatting to the sellers, it was clear she had taken him at his word. He watched her sip at a drink, smiled at her amusement when she found it far too bitter. Not even that experience dampened her enthusiasm. She did not dismiss it as “bad”, just something not for her. He wasn't like that, but perhaps that balanced them better – his caution against her curiosity.

Right now, he let her curiosity lead. He remained... not quite on guard, but certainly alert. The close-call at their last stop had been a reminder of what he'd left behind. While it was in the past as far as he was concerned, he knew the Peacekeepers would feel differently once they knew he was still alive.

Not that they would come for him. He might have aggravated Scorpius, but even the half-breed wouldn't venture so far for mere revenge. For Talyn, though – yes, he and others would definitely hunt the hybrid down. They would take him back over Bialar's dead body.

“What's up with you? You've a face like a thundercloud.”

He shook off the morbid thoughts and focused on Donna. Her arms were full of packages. It occurred to him that he'd no idea what she'd spent his credits on. He trusted that she'd gotten what they needed.

“Nothing, I was just thinking.”

“Not sick of me already, are you?”

Despite her light tone, vulnerability darkened her eyes. He shook his head emphatically. “Absolutely not. I doubt I will ever be.” He smiled as relief relaxed her features. “Here, let me help you with those.”

“Actually I was hoping you'd take the lot.”

Bialar laughed and did so. Peering down at all the packages, he sighed. “Perhaps I should take them to Talyn. I can't reach my pistol now.”

“There's a shame.” Donna frowned at the weapon. “No idea what you need that thing for anyway. Yes, yes – to protect me. I know that. But now I've seen what they can do...” She trailed off, her eyes worried. “You are okay, aren't you?”

“I would have thought that obvious from the amount of... activity I've been doing.” Bialar hid a smirk. He decided that bringing that glorious colour to her cheeks – one way or another – might very well be his new favourite pastime. “Yes, Donna, I'm fine.”

“Good.” She smiled, sidling close, then patted his backside. “Off you go, then. I'm gonna wander down this section a bit more. I promise I won't go too far. Or get kidnapped by aliens.”

He hated the thought of leaving her alone, but she was a grown woman and, as he'd witnessed, more than capable of looking after herself. “I shouldn't be long. I believe we should find somewhere selling food and have breakfast.”

“It's a date,” she said with a wink. Then she kissed his lips lightly and spun to investigate the rest of the level. Bialar watched her go, satisfied that with the transponder in place Talyn would know instantly if she got into trouble.

He shifted his grip on the parcels and made his way back to the Leviathan.

* * * * *

Despite their last halt having such a disastrous outcome, Donna still loved wandering alien places. The station held a wider variety, much like popular tourist spots on Earth would see people from different countries visiting. She'd little qualm in being away from Bialar, though she wasn't quite as sure he ought to be left to his own devices – the man seemed more of a trouble magnet than even the Doctor.

That made her stop. She'd not thought of him in days, more than likely because she'd been rather occupied. Now she found that those memories no longer caused her the same pain as they once had. She was making new ones with a man she loved, and who loved her.

It was probably because the Time Lord was on her mind that the flash of gold hair through the throng of aliens caught Donna's attention. Could it be? No, she was just projecting. Still, the flicker of curiosity drove her on to her toes in an attempt to see over the mill of alien beings.

Just as she'd convinced herself she had imagined it and had turned to look at another shop, she caught the glint from the corner of her eye. She twirled and got a clear glance of red curls. Her stomach flipped, the sensation unpleasant. Was it River? She couldn't imagine that hair belonging to anyone else, but if she was here...

Was he?

Donna chewed at her bottom lip. At the back of her mind, Talyn shifted unhappily.

“I'm not going to leave,” she thought. “I just want to know. Don't tell him.”

With that, she forced herself to follow, pushing past a large quadruped alien in order to keep those familiar curls in sight. A break in the crowd gave her a better look and this time there was no doubt – the woman she was chasing was definitely River Song. She'd just no idea why she was here.

Or when – her visit to the Library had been in her own future, but the TARDIS didn't travel in a linear fashion. Even knowing that, seeing someone Donna knew was dead – well, would die – gave her the creeps. Part of her wanted to run up and warn her. Another wanted to turn around and head for Talyn, and Bialar's tight embrace.

But she couldn't. She had to see him once last time, to ask why. To let him know she was okay. She needed to draw a line under that life, to give herself closure, so she could really move forward in her new one.

She followed the redhead through the crowd. There were a lot more aliens around. Losing patience, Donna shoved and pushed, raising her voice to move the idiots out of her way. It was hopeless, though – by the time she'd stepped free, there was no sign of River.

Yet something pulled at her, a faint tug she'd not felt for over a year. She took one step, then another, letting it guide her along. It led her into a square area that had elevator-like things to take her up or down as she wanted. Beyond those, nestled in the shadow of the corner, was a blue box.

Donna walked towards the TARDIS. Her skin felt numb and her mind was blank. She touched the wood. It pulsed beneath her palm, reminding her sharply of Talyn. The Doctor had often said the TARDIS had a mind of her own.

“Donna?”

She spun and found herself face to face with River. Her eyes were wide and wondering, and a frown furrowed her brow. She wore an uncertain smile as she moved closer. “Donna Noble? Is that really you?”

“Yeah. Hello, River.”

“You know who I am? Ooh, that's exciting.” River grinned, then held up a hand to forestall anything Donna might have said. “Spoilers, dearie.”

“I remember.” Donna glanced back at the TARDIS. It looked... different; bluer, newer. She looked at River. “Which kind of begs the question of how you know who I am.”

“He talks about you.” River didn't say who, but then she didn't need to. “Not often, but every now and then. He told me what he did, and why. I know how sorry he was, how sorry he still is. But there was a reason and you should not be here.”

 

“Because I had the consciousness of a Time Lord in my head, and being a human being all that knowledge should have burnt me alive?” Donna huffed and folded her arms. “Yes, I heard all that from him. It's gone.”

“That shouldn't be possible. How?”

“Have you ever heard of a Leviathan?”

River's eyes went wide. “Really? Is that how you got here?”

“Yeah.” Donna nodded at the TARDIS. “Is he in there, or off making trouble?”

Almost in answer, she realised that she could hear a voice coming closer. It was male, but beyond that, she didn't recognise the speaker. She didn't need to – the litany of complaints about the station being boring and how he should have landed on a different day couldn't have come from anyone else.

“As a warning,” River said. “He's regenerated since you last saw him.”

He came into view, and Donna's first impression was of a gangling youth, all long legs and pointed elbows. He'd dark hair that flopped into his eyes, and wore a tweed jacket that hung awkwardly on his thin frame. She didn't think it suited him, then couldn't imagine him in anything else.

“Doctor,” she said, and he stopped. He stared at him, then at River.

“What?”

It had been the very first thing he'd ever said to her, and Donna laughed. “What the hell are you wearing?” she asked. “A bowtie? And are those braces?”

He still stood there, gaping at her. She forced a smile despite the maelstrom of emotions storming through her. His mouth worked, then he finally managed a word. “Donna?”

“Oh, you remember me then! Because I sure as hell couldn't remember you, not for the longest time.” Anger bubbled up, churning alongside the hurt at what he'd done to her. “I'd made my choice. What gave you the right to decide otherwise?”

“Nothing.” The Doctor ran a hand through his hair. In that instance, the youthful appearance vanished and she could see just how old he gotten. “Donna, I'm sorry.”

Her anger gutted. Closing the gap between them, she drew him into a tight hug. “You were always a daft Martian,” she noted huskily. “And I guess I should thank you, cos if you hadn't left me, then I'd never have met Bialar.” She chuckled at herself. “Sorry, you won't know who that is.”

The Doctor caught her chin in one, long-fingered hand and gazed deep into her eyes. “Well, I never would have thought of that. What I don't get is how you even encountered a Leviathan on Earth.”

She probably shouldn't have been surprised he could tell somehow. He'd always had an uncanny knack for figuring things out. “He followed a song. He saved my life and almost walked right out of it again, but I chased after him.”

“Of course you did.” The Doctor gave her a wry smile. “Some things don't change.”

“The pilot, I mean.” Donna frowned. “Sort of. His name is Bialar. Bialar Crais. And the ship is called Talyn.”

“Crais is a Sebacean name,” the Doctor noted. “They're not so dissimilar from humans. I didn't think one could be a pilot.”

“Yeah, well Bialar is special.” In more ways than one. 

Donna pulled away from the Doctor, realising that she was probably considered missing. “And he'll be looking for me, so I better get back.”

“Are you sure? The TARDIS is here, I could take you back to Earth, back home.”

Temptation sparked. It would give her the chance to tell her mum and granddad where she was, what she was doing. But she knew the TARDIS had never been reliable and she couldn't risk going to Earth when she wasn't sure she could get back.

“My home is here,” she told the Time Lord softly. “Though if you could let Mum know I'm okay, I'd be grateful.”

“But your family...”

“Is Bialar and Talyn now. I've always wanted to travel, that's why I looked for you after Christmas. Now I am doing, and I'm doing it in the most incredible ship ever. You should see him – he's beautiful.”

“But–”

“Leave her be, Doctor,” River said, hooking an arm with his. “She's made her decision.”

“Thanks, I have.”

“He better treat you well.”

Donna arched an eyebrow. “As well as you treat him.”

River chuckled. The Doctor looked confused. “What are you two going on about?”

“Girl stuff.” River tossed her head. “You wouldn't understand.”

“Right. Okay, then! We'd better get off. Stuff to do!” He grinned, his eyes bright. It made his face youthful again. “Maybe our paths will converge a third time, Donna Noble. You never know, do you?”

“I hope they will,” she said honestly. She glanced at River's hand, firmly on the Doctor's arm. “Should I expect a wedding invitation, or did I miss that already?”

“Spoilers,” River laughed, but the glance she sent in the Doctor's direction spoke volumes.

Tears prickled at Donna's eyes, because heaven knew the man deserved someone to care for him and River was exactly the sort of woman he needed. It was the sort she hoped to be for Bialar.

The Doctor gently shook River off, then pulled Donna her into another hug. “Goodbye, Donna. Hopefully, I'll see you again. But if I don't, you have a good life.”

“I will, I promise.”

He dropped his arms and stepped back, fiddling with his bowtie as he looked uncertain as to whether to really leave her or not. River took command. She grabbed his arm and dragged him to the TARDIS. Unlocked the door and pushed it open. The inside was still bigger, but now in shades of grey instead of coral.

“Goodbye, Donna,” River said with a smile.

“Bye, River.” She wanted to say something more, to warn the woman, but the words just wouldn't come. “See you again, yeah?”

River nodded, then closed the door. There was a brief moment of stillness, then the engine whined into life. A breeze ruffled at Donna's hair, freeing a couple of strands that wafted about her face as the TARDIS faded out.

Then the bluster died and silence fell. All she could hear was the muted voices of aliens passing the end of the passageway. She took a deep breath and then sighed. It felt good to have seen the Doctor, to say a proper goodbye and have that closure. She had absolutely no regret about not going back to Earth. It was not where her heart lay.

A touch on her hand made her jump. She turned and found Bialar looking at her, and going on his tight expression, he'd obviously seen the TARDIS. He knew she'd been speaking to the Doctor. Donna was just glad he'd not found her sooner, otherwise the Time Lord might have had to regenerate again.

“Hey,” she said softly. “I was just about to come looking for you.”

“Not leaving?”

“Does it look like it?”

He pursed his lips and glanced away. “I wonder if you'll regret that. You could have gone home, back to your family. I am not sure you'll get another chance.”

Donna's heart ached at the sadness on his face. She threw her arms around his neck. “You daft sod, I don't need another chance. Talyn is my home, and he and you are all the family I need. I'm not leaving you, Bialar. Not now, not ever.”

He gazed down at her. “You mean that, don't you?”

She put a hand on his cheek. “Absolutely.”

“So you weren't tempted?

“Only in order to let them know I'm okay. The Doctor will do that for me.” Donna kissed Bialar on the mouth, letting him take command of it, and her, for a long moment. She was a little breathless when he broke away. She shivered at the hunger she saw in his eyes. “I'm not going anywhere that isn't with you. Understand?”

“Yes, I believe that I do.”

“Good.” She kissed him again, simply because she could. “Are we done restocking out food supplies?”

“All that and more.” Bialar dropped his arms, then took her hand. She followed him away from the elevator things. “Want to grab some breakfast?” he asked.

“Yeah, and then I think we need to find somewhere a little less boring.” She grinned at him. “I mean, I've not had to run once, and where's the fun in that? Nowhere. Seriously, I tell you this place is worse than a Sunday.”


End file.
